


Everything Comes Back To You

by stubliminalmessaging



Series: Shameless Prompt Fics [3]
Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: AU, M/M, chapter 1 is 'waking up with amnesia au', chapter 10 is 'met on a train ride au', chapter 11 is 'librarian/avid reader au', chapter 2 has some angst, chapter 2 is 'soul mate au', chapter 3 is also 'soul mate au' just with less angst, chapter 4 is 'teacher/single parent au', chapter 5 is 'met in a coffee shop au', chapter 9 is 'brand new neighbours au', chapter eight is 'meeting in the er au', chapter seven is 'lab partners au', chapter six is 'partners in crime au', things get matureish in chapter 6
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-10-06
Updated: 2015-03-24
Packaged: 2018-02-20 03:02:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 8,040
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2412566
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stubliminalmessaging/pseuds/stubliminalmessaging
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of AU prompts I received on my blog. Ratings and tags will change as I write the fics.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Waking up with amnesia AU

**Author's Note:**

> hey friends! i got a handful of prompts sent to my blog from [this](http://likingwhatilikedontmakemeabitch.tumblr.com/post/98454485258/send-me-a-ship-and-a-number-and-ill-write-a-short-fic) meme and so i'm going to put them all here. enjoy!

                Mickey had to admit Gallagher was pretty fucking cute when he woke up. He was all messy hair and bleary eyes as he blinked to get his bearings. He was like a sleepy little puppy, rubbing the crud from his eyes and eventually rolling back over and burying his face in the pillow.

 

                Unfortunately Mickey couldn’t pester Ian until he got up this particular morning because the next second he heard the alarm go off in Yev’s room and he realized he was already behind schedule. He vowed to toss the bouncy child into bed with Ian after he’d had his sugary cereal and see how long it took Ian to get up after that.

 

                Except that when he eventually did get back to their room (after he sent Yev off to catch the bus with Liam, who had offered to walk Yev to and from the bus when he’d started school. Ian escaped the attack of the sugared up child, but just barely. He was lucky) he found the bed empty and he frowned.

 

                He only needed to take another step into the room before he located Ian. He had an armload of sheets from the closet and he dumped them on the bed, supposedly not seeing Mickey in the doorway. He started tying the sheets together to make a long rope when Mickey finally spoke up, effectively freezing him.

 

                “Are you making a fucking escape rope out of sheets?” Mickey asked and then tried to move closer to Ian and take the sheets out of his hands but he just backed away, wringing his hands in the sheets where he clutched them. “Ian? What’s going on with you?”

 

                “I-I don’t know who you are or where I am but please don’t come any closer,” Ian pleaded and Mickey stopped moving entirely, aside from his scowling mouth and furrowing eyebrows. “Ian is me?”

 

                “Uh, yeah, for the past twenty-three years,” Mickey replied. “Ian Gallagher?”

 

                “Gallagher,” Ian said, as if trying it out on his tongue. “Gallagher. Okay,” he nodded and dropped his knotted-up sheets in a heap on the floor. “And... where am I?”

 

                “At home,” Mickey replied. He hoped that if he played along long enough Ian would get bored and snap out of it. “Our apartment. Are you off you fucking meds, man?”

 

                “ _Our_ apartment?” Ian asked, eyeing Mickey suspiciously. “You’re...?”

 

                “Mickey,” Mickey answered. “I’m Mickey, you’re my boyfriend, we live together, we have a son.” He was just this side of irritated with Ian and he was about to start shouting (probably) when Ian lit up.

 

                “You’re my boyfriend,” he said, grinning like a complete idiot. He sunk down on the edge of the bed and sat there a moment. Then he stroked a hand over Mickey’s pillow before he flopped over across the bed and landed face-first in the pillow.

 

                Mickey didn’t know what to do at first. Ian was on one hell of a trip. He edged closer to the bed until he could kneel on the carpet beside it. “You alright, firecrotch?” he asked.

 

                “I’m _great_ ,” Ian answered. He turned his head to lean his cheek against the pillow and look at Mickey where he kneeled beside the bed. “You’re my boyfriend,” he murmured with reverence.

 

                “...okay,” Mickey said. “Time to get up, Gallagher. As great as this must be for you I think we need to see your doctor today.”

 

                “I have a doctor? Am I sick?”

 

                “Maybe. Just gotta call and make sure someone can take Yev after school so we can make sure you’re sorted out, then we’re gonna go.”

 

                “Who’s Yev?”

 

                “Case and fuckin’ point.”


	2. Soul Mate AU - Take 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i started writing this one and got this angsty little thing before i stopped and switched gears to something less sad. so here's the product of my angsty little ideas before i made myself too sad to keep going. enjoy!

                Ian was six when they had their first conversation. He knew about soul mates since he’d started school the year before and he had a vague inkling his was alive and that they were connected, but he’d never spoken to his partner. Fiona was at the right age to be caught up in hopes of love and romance and wept frequently because she had yet to connect with her other half. When Ian had told her he thought he was connected to someone she hammered him with questions: how did it feel? Did he just wake up with it? Had they ever spoken? He disappointed her with his lackluster responses every time.

 

                When they finally did speak he didn’t tell Fiona about it. A child’s voice in his head asked; “are you a girl?” and Ian had replied; “no, I’m a boy,” and the voice went silent after that. He wondered what he had done to deserve having his soul mate ignoring him. He didn’t understand why until he heard from Lip about some guys in their neighbourhood putting a boy in the hospital after catching him kissing another boy.

 

                He was careful after that. Receiving radio silence from his partner hurt but he could understand why it happened. The guy probably had a lot to live for. Freedom’s just another word for nothing left to lose.


	3. Soul Mate AU - Take 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so this is what i wrote after i stopped writing the same au in chapter 2. enjoy!

                _i think we should meet_

 

                Really? They’ve been in each others’ heads for sixteen years, and only now does Mickey want to meet? Granted, sixteen _whole_ years was probably an exaggeration, since they’d spent the first couple years of their lives not conscious of each other or communicating.

 

                (To him, at least. The second Ian drew his first worldly breath, Mickey could feel him. He didn’t yet know what it meant until he was a few years older. But he _always_ knew he was there.)

 

                Point is, they had been in contact most of their lives, definitely all of their teenage years. It was easy to ignore each other (especially with Mickey doing most of it) while they were both kids, but it was much harder to put it to the back of their minds when they felt such intense _longing_.

 

                It wasn’t gradual or subtle, it hit both of them at the same time like a tidal wave. Even though Mickey was a year and three quarters older than him, it’s like a switch was flipped for the pair of them, resulting in their practically itching with the need to fuck each other senseless.

 

                Still, with the irresistible need to work out their energy physically, Mickey still would not agree to meet up. Ian would have been more annoyed had he not immediately started a filthy telepathic dialogue that had Ian biting his knuckles to keep his sounds muffled so as not to wake up his brothers while he jerked off to it. Telepathic sex was awesome and it almost made up for the fact that Mickey refused to meet with him in person.

 

                The years during which Ian was about twelve to sixteen had been riddled with Mickey fueling his masturbation sessions. He felt a bit guilty when he fucked around with Roger Spikey and later, Kash, but he just pushed the older boy’s voice to the back of his mind. Mickey was the one who refused to properly get together with him. Ian wasn’t even going to deny himself sex just because Mickey was a pussy about moving their relationship along.

 

                Wasn’t it enough that they were soul mates for him to accept that they were meant to be together? Why did he have to fight fate?

 

                Sometimes Ian would relay the experience he’d had with other guys he’d fucked to Mickey. He’d tell him about it just to feel the anger and jealousy flush through him. Mickey didn’t need to say anything; he couldn’t hide his honest feelings from Ian when he could feel them through their bond.

 

                When Mickey finally proposed that they meet, Ian was very tempted to refuse and to go off and fuck someone else. However, he felt how anxious and upset Mickey was when he asked, and Ian knew he couldn’t deny him this. Still, he wasn’t answers.

 

                _do you actually want to see me or are you just horny and want me to fuck your brains out?_

_why can’t it be both?_

_not a mistress, mick_

_fuck, c’mon, i’m clawing at the walls, man_

_jerk off, then. you can even think of me if you want_

_it’s not enough_

_too bad for you_

_please, ian_ , Mickey’s mental voice begged, edged with desperation. _i need you_

_i’ve needed you, so many times_ , Ian thought angrily. _and every time you said no. you’re a fucking pussy_

He felt a little bad about shutting Mickey out like this but when he thought about the times Mickey Had left him high and dry he felt... worse, actually. He thought of how he’d felt when Monica had come back and how he’d been so lost. Then when Mickey had essentially abandoned him he’d felt like he had no one and he’d just hidden from Monica as much as he could until she took off again (what a shock). He remembered how he felt back then and realized he would never wish that feeling on anyone, much less the boy he loved.

 

                _alright, alright_ , Ian thought, cutting off Mickey’s rambling and getting up from where he had been sitting on the edge of his bed. He grabbed his baggie of weed and a pack of papers and took the stairs two at a time. _i’ve got the weed. you bring the beer and meet me at the canaryville baseball field dugout in twenty?_


	4. Teacher/Single Parent AU

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is a bit of an add-on to [this](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1553198/chapters/3498908)

                “I still don’t understand why you dropped in,” Ian said, closing Yevgeny’s file and looking at Mickey, confused. “Yevgeny has one of the top marks in the class, his attendance is pretty much perfect, and he is very well-behaved. Are you worried about something, Mister Milkovich?”

 

                “Just thought it was better safe than sorry.”

 

                “If you say so, Mister Milkovich, but I honestly don’t have any advice or anything to pass on to help Yevgeny do better. He’s acing my class and I’ve never had a problem with him. I don’t want to throw the word around, but he’s a pretty ideal student,” Ian admitted. “I don’t know what to tell you.”

 

                “...you got a cell?” Mickey asked and when Ian gave him one of the most confused looks Mickey had ever seen on a human face, he elaborated. “I’m just really worried about Yev’s grades and I don’t want to have to go through three fuckin’ levels of receptionists just to get ahold of his teacher.”

 

                “Gotcha,” Ian said. He paused a minute and sighed, then rolled back from his desk to dig in a drawer and find a pad of sticky notes. He grabbed a pen from a mug near a framed photo of him and a girl – also a redhead, Mickey hoped his sister – and scribbled a phone number down on it. “I’m not really supposed to do this, but Yev is a good kid and if constant reinforcement is what it takes for his father to be satisfied with his academic performance, then I’ll do what I can.”

 

                Mickey tried to be casual about it, so as not to come off as too-eager when he took the post it note that Ian held out to him. He was reluctant to leave since he wanted all the facetime with Ian he could get, but their conversation was done and it would be weird if he hung around any longer.

 

                So he got to his feet when Ian did and took the hand that he extended it, shaking it firmly. He tried not to eye the muscles in Ian’s forearm where his sleeve was rolled up but he couldn’t stop himself from imagining the flexing of his bicep.

 

                “Thanks for meeting with me, Mister Gallagher,” Mickey said, on his best behaviour around his incredibly inappropriate crush.

 

                “Call me Ian,” Ian insisted, slaying Mickey with the grin he shot at him before he ended the handshake.

 

                “Alright. You should call me Mickey then,” Mickey said, shrugging his jacket onto his shoulders. Ian looked pleased.

 

                “Text me so I’ll have your number and then feel free to contact me whenever you’d like if you have any concerns,” Ian said, and Mickey took that as his cue to leave the teacher’s office. He held his victorious smirk in until he was pulling out of the school parking lot, but his jaw twitched the entire time he was on the way out of the school.


	5. Meeting In a Coffee Shop AU

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is something of a follow up to [this fic](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1243504) since lots of people wanted more :)

                Mickey had held on to Ian’s number for a week after they met, but as far as Ian knew, he might as well have thrown it out once he’d finished his coffee. Every time Ian checked his phone he had a shimmer of hope that there’d be a text there from Mickey or a missed call or something. Every time he checked the shimmer of hope dulled because he never did receive any word from Mickey.

 

                Ian was thisclose to passing it off as a loss (he’d already told Lip he was done waiting for his coffee shop crush but he’d lied so his brother would get off his back) when Mickey came into his shop one day. The shop was mostly empty after the lunchtime rush and he wandered on, looking around like he was lost but Ian saw through it to the sheepishness and guilt beneath,

 

                “Hey,” Ian greeted, coaxing Mickey closer to the register. “What can I get you?”

 

                “Uh – same as last time,” Mickey replied. “Tons of sugar.”

 

                Ian nodded and went to the get Mickey a cup.

 

                Mickey broke the silence when it became clear that Ian wasn’t going to. “Look, I’m sorry I haven’t called you yet-“

 

                “Name?” Ian asked, uncapping the marker and holding Mickey’s cup, ready to scribbled down his name.

 

                “You know my name,” Mickey said.

 

                “No, you’re a stranger. I’ve definitely never met you before and I definitely didn’t like meeting you enough to give you my number,” Ian said, still regarding Mickey with a level stare, waiting for Mickey to answer his question from before.

 

                “Fuck. I’m trying to fucking apologize, man,” Mickey groaned. Ian shrugged.

 

                “You could’ve just texted me and we wouldn’t be having this discussion. We could be making out somewhere or getting it on or something,” he remained unphased, cool and composed as he went on. “I’m really good at both so I guess it sucks to be you.”

 

                Mickey stared at Ian for a moment and stammered out; “I’m sorry. I’m an asshole and I just want you to give me a chance.”

 

                Ian did not respond to Mickey’s words, just scribbled a name down on the cup before he poured Mickey his coffee and stirred in the sugar. He set the cup on the counter beside the register and went back to bustling about behind the counter, steadfastly ignoring Mickey.

 

                Mickey sighed and took the cup and left his change on the counter. He took his drink and went over to an empty corner of the cafe. He sunk into one of the squishy armchairs there and drank his coffee moodily. He poked at his phone and hovered over the keyboard on his screen, and he deliberated over it another moment before he got up and left, taking his coffee with him.

 

                Ian was disappointed to see him leave, but he supposed he was just doing as Ian told him. Still, he’d hoped for a bit more determination considering he’d supposedly come in to the shop to make amends and initiate some face-to-face interaction.

 

                It was with a heavy sigh that Ian closed down the cafe after his shift. He went and got his stuff from his locker and then jogged off to catch the bus. It pulled away from his stop as he came tearing around the corner and he gave up, dragging his feet the rest of the way to his stop. He sunk down onto the bench to wait the half an hour or so until another bus came and took a minute to check his phone. He had a call from Fiona and a couple texts from Lip. He texted his siblings back.

 

                While he was typing out a reply to Fiona’s call his phone buzzed in his fingers. He finished typing and checked the new message, confused to find that it was from a number he’d never seen before.

 

                _i’m not an asshole. just don’t know how to talk to guys_

 

                Ian smirked, thinking back to what he’d scribbled on Mickey’s cup earlier in lieu of his name. _you told me you were. i’m a bit hurt you’d lie to me like that_ , he replied.

 

                _yeah, laugh it up, dick-breath. you owe me for the bad customer service_

_oh yeah?_ Ian couldn’t help but grin. _what do i owe you?_

_movie and a couple slices of pizza, thursday night_ , Mickey texted him back and before long Ian was so distracted by their conversation that he nearly missed his second bus.


	6. Partners in Crime AU

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this prompt amused me because it's basically canon lol.

                “Did you really have to wear _those_ pants?” Ian asked, eyes firmly glued to Mickey’s backside in the black jeans he’d worn for their little errand.

 

                “Can you watch the fuckin’ street like you’re supposed to, please?” Mickey snapped, looking over his shoulder at his redheaded idiot boyfriend as the picked the lock on the back alley door of the jewellers’. It wasn’t a great fancy shop but it was something. It was less lucrative than Mickey was used to, but Ian was new to the game. Tonight was his first score aside from the handful of B & Es they’d done in the past few weeks.

 

                “Hard to watch anything but that ass,” Ian mused, hovering by the back door while Mickey went into the shop and started filling the backpack he’d brought. One thing about shitty little stores in the South Side – the security was always at the bare minimum.

 

                “Ay – head in the game, Gallagher. Don’t need no one calling the cops on us ‘cause you’re too busy tripping on your slack jaw droolin’ over my ass,” Mickey groused. He cleaned out the big ticket items quickly and once he was satisfied with his haul he ducked back out the back door.

 

                “Alright, that’s it. Let’s roll,” Mickey said, closing the back door of the shop behind him and swinging his bag onto his back.

 

                Ian trailed after Mickey, taking Mickey’s hand and pushing him playfully against the wall. Mickey pushed at him and Ian followed him as he marched out onto the street.

 

                “Can we find somewhere to fuck?” Ian asked, giddy. He pawed at Mickey again, over his shoulder and down his side to his ass. “I’ve gotta have you in this get-up, with the gloves on and the stealth gear and those fucking _jeans_.”

 

                “Hands off till we get home you fucking weirdo,” Mickey growled, pulling away from Ian again. He rolled his eyes. “Only you would think this is fucking hot.”

 

                “It’s just exciting, you know?” Ian babbled. They climbed the stairs up to the platform to the El station and waited. Ian lit their smoke and Mickey hogged it, eyeing his beaming man out of the corner of his eye.

 

                “Christ, you’re fucking jittery, it’s driving me nuts,” Mickey sighed, finishing off the smoke and tossing the butt. “Let’s find a public shitter and you can get on me.”

 

                “And they say romance is dead,” Ian laughed, though he took Mickey’s hand anyways. They went back down the stairs and onto the street and tracked down a twenty-four-hour diner and ordered the cheeseburger specials before they took to the men’s washroom.

 

                “Dinner and diamonds,” Ian sighed when he pressed Mickey against the bathroom door. He leaned down and pressed a kiss to Mickey’s mouth. “Best date night ever.”

 

                “Yeah, yeah,” Mickey said, hands up in Ian’s flaming red hair and tugged him down into a long languid kiss. He clutched at Ian’s shoulders, and ground their hips together. When they parted, he panted; “C’mon, fuck me.”

 

                “Wouldn’t be date night if I didn’t,” Ian assured him. He worked at Mickey’s jeans and sucked on his lip.

 

                “Yeah, fuckin’ date night,” Mickey groaned when Ian got a hand in his boxers.


	7. Lab Partners AU

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> apologies for this one being so weird but i had a lot of trouble coming up with anything else to do with this one.
> 
> i went really hard au this time, in an ideal high school au where ian and mickey are boyfriends and everybody knows it

                “Scalpel.”

 

                “You can fuck right off, Gallagher,” Mickey huffed, crossing his arms and glaring at their fetal pig. “Ain’t your fuckin’ nurse.”

 

                “Yeah, you’d look shitty in the dress,” Ian laughed. He reached past Mickey to get the scalpel. He struck a pose with it and said, in his best action movie voice; “I’m going in.”

 

                “Such a fucking weirdo,” Mickey groaned, rolling his eyes. He stared at their pig until Ian made the first incision, at which point he looked away. Ian sliced the pig’s chest and abdomen open using the scalpel and his gloved fingers and looked up at Mickey. He smiled to himself when he saw Mickey picking at his nails and squinting at their worksheet and generally avoiding looking at their disemboweled pig.

 

                “There,” Ian declared, peeling back the pig’s brined wrinkled skin and holding the scalpel out to Mickey. “Wanna take out the intestines?”

 

                “No, you look like you got this,” Mickey croaked, looking paler than usual, maybe even a little green at the gills.

 

                “Aw, thanks babe,” Ian said, grinning and elbowing Mickey in the side.

 

                ‘You say that again and I’ll rip your tongue outta your head,” Mickey muttered, eyeing the other students in the class, coupled off in their own groups and minding their own business. The rest of the class literally could not give fewer fucks about the pair of boys were doing, and Ian cocked an eyebrow at Mickey, challenging him.

 

                Mickey followed Ian’s gaze and acknowledged that no one in the room cared what they were doing. He essentially thought ‘fuck it’ and moved in closer to Ian to plant a kiss on him. Ian stayed still and let Mickey do it, gloved hands still covered in pig innards. Mickey pulled back after the peck and bit his lip, eyes flicking down to the pig.

 

                “You gonna get a fuckin’ move on, Gallagher? I’m not staying late ‘cause you got fuckin’ stars in your eyes. Soon as that bell goes, I’m outta here.”

 

                “Sure you can keep your lunch down?” Ian teased, turning his attention back to their fetal pig.

 

                “I’ll eat yours too,” Mickey promised, eyebrows raising before he threatened; “I guess I’ll just have to feed you something else.”

 

                Ian just grinned and began extracting the pig’s slimy intestines.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> see i told you it was fucking weird but i tried like four different plots and this is the best i got


	8. Meeting in the Emergency Room AU

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is one of my favourite ones i've done

                It started with Ian falling wrong off one of the drill obstacles at ROTC and landing on his leg wrong. A half a dozen cadets rushed to his aid and helped him up, though he told them he was good and that he would just walk it off. His commanding officer took one look at his leg and had the other boys help Ian to the car so he could drive him to the hospital.

 

                It occurred to him to call some stranger danger, but he was in a lot of pain and it made hi reluctant to protest. He hoped he managed to find the one not-so-corrupt adult in the South Side when he got in the cat with the man. He told the other boys that their session was complete and that they should go home before he got in the car and drove Ian to the emergency room.

 

                Once Ian had been admitted to emerg and had waited the first half hour or so, things got a lot less urgent. His C.O. calmed down and realized that he wasn’t on the brink of death, and after a lot of urging from Ian and a phone call to Fiona’s cell, he left Ian to wait until he was called in to see a doctor.

 

                The ER was surprisingly empty but Ian just chalked it up to being a week night, not that that stops crime and violence in this part of town. Ian was just contemplating sneaking out and (very carefully) taking the bus home so that V could try and do something about it when someone nudged his shoulder.

 

                “Ay, you got a smoke?” asked the dark-haired kid who’d nudged at his shoulder and broke him out of his thoughts.

 

                “Uh – yeah, I think so,” Ian replied, sitting back and reaching into his school bag on the chair next to him. He found his pack and shook out his last smoke, offering it to the guy. He took it and placed it between his lips and looked at Ian expectantly, eyebrows arching up when Ian didn’t move.

 

                “You comin’?”

 

                “What?” Ian asked. “No, I gave it to you.”

 

                “Ain’t it your last one?” Mickey asked, eyeing the empty crumpled package in Ian’s hands. He shrugged and shoved the carton back into his bag.

 

                “I can’t get up,” Ian told him. “My leg’s broken. Take it, I’ll get some more later.”

 

                “Nah, we can share. I’ll help you get outside,” the guy offered Ian his hand to haul him to his good leg. It would have been easier with two hands but the guy seemed to stubbornly insist on keeping his right hand tucked in against his side. Ian supposed that perhaps he was in the hospital because of some arm or hand injury.

 

                The guy let Ian lean on him and helped him limp his way out the automated hospital doors. He helped Ian over to a bench outside and let him down on it. He leaned against a pillar next to the bench and got out his lighter, lighting Ian’s last smoke one-handed.

 

                “I’m Ian,” Ian said when the guy offered him the smoke. He took it and sucked on the filter as he looked the guy over. He held out his right hand in offering.

 

                “Mickey,” the guy supplied, though he eyed Ian’s offered hand warily. He settled on waving Ian’s hand off, finally moving his right hand from where he had it pressed into his side. Immediately Ian saw the dark stain blossoming from Mickey’s ribs where he’d been covering it. His suspicions were confirmed when he saw the blood staining Mickey’s palm. He saw Ian looking and he swore, then he cringed and curled in on himself a bit.

 

                “What the fuck happened, man?” Ian asked and Mickey chewed on the inside of his cheek and smoked silently. Ian tried to take it off him but he growled and turned away, swatting at Ian’s grabby hand.

 

                “Seriously, what happened? I won’t tell anyone, just don’t want you bleeding out on me,” Ian tried again.

 

                “Tell anyone and I’ll cut your fuckin’ tongue out,” Mickey promised, sizing Ian up. “Ain’t fuckin’ joking. I’ll fucking kill you easy as breathing, man.”

 

                “Yeah, whatever. I’ll take it to the grave or whatever,” Ian said, anxious and eager to know what had happened to Mickey.

 

                He squeezed the wound on his side and said: “I got shot.”

 

                “No shit. I fucking know you got shot,” Ian said, rolling his eyes. “Do the emerg staff know? You’d think you’d be bumped up the list if they knew you were bleeding out with a bullet in your guts.”

 

                “Two things. One: there’s no bullet in me. It went through, and before you start freaking out like a fuckin’ pussy. It don’t hurt that bad so I’m pretty sure it missed all the important shit. Two: I told the nurse I got a tattoo last weekend and it got really infected. So it don’t make a difference how fast they process me.”

 

                “What exactly are you planning on telling the doctor when he looks you over and sees you got shot?” Ian asked, finally taking the mostly-gone smoke off Mickey.

 

                “Gonna tell him I’ll fuck him up if he don’t patch me up and send me home with some good painkillers and no fuss or if he calls the cops,” Mickey replied, smirking. “Doctors are pussy little nerds. Shouldn’t be a problem.”

 

                Ian smiled at that. This was guy cute and cocky and Ian felt himself get more attached every second he spent talking to him and he found himself wanting to spend more time with him. Before he could decide against it, he asked; “What are you doing after this?”

 

                Mickey didn’t answer him for a minute, so Ian stammered to correct his question. “I-I mean like, if you wanna hang out or whatever. We could play video games and get high and stuff,” Ian babbled, wracking his brain for what straight guys did for fun together. “A-and watch football and shoot guns.”

 

                Ian immediately felt seven hundred times gayer than he usually did when Mickey sideeyed him. Just as Ian contemplated fleeing back inside Mickey shrugged and plucked the smoke from Ian’s fingers, finishing it off and tossing the butt into one of the flower beds outside the hospital.

 

                “I’ll go get this shit over with and you get yours taken care of you can wait here for me. Shouldn’t take more than an hour, right?” Mickey led the way back into the emergency room and Ian followed after him like a puppy who had just picked his human.


	9. Brand New Neighbours AU

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> send prompts from [this](http://likingwhatilikedontmakemeabitch.tumblr.com/post/98454485258/send-me-a-ship-and-a-number-and-ill-write-a-short) meme to [my askbox](http://likingwhatilikedontmakemeabitch.tumblr.com/ask) :) (just so there's no repeats i've already got numbers 1, 4, 6, 11, 14, 15, 16, 18, 19, 23, 25, 29, 30, 40, and 50)
> 
> it should also be noted that i got a lot of help on this chapter from [tanya](http://hashtaggallavich.tumblr.com/) because i was having trouble deciding on which direction to go with it until she helped me lay it down <3

                Ian wasn’t sure what to think of his new neighbours, but things weren’t looking great between them. (Though when he thought about it, he supposed _he_ was the new neighbour in the situation since they’d been there first. Still didn’t give them an excuse to be colossal asshats.

 

                Actually, he really liked the sister a lot. She was the only one he’d actually spent any time talking to and if their work schedules matched up a little better, they would probably hang out more and be best friends. A month into living next door he found out that he _truly_ didn’t like any of his neighbours.

 

                The brother that answered when Ian knocked was one of the older ones, a scruffy blond. “Yeah?” he asked, belching. Ian tried not to wrinkle his nose at the smell, even though it was _right in his face_.

 

                “Is – uh – is Mandy here?” Ian asked.

 

                “Nope,” the brother replied. When he didn’t go on, Ian prompted him again.

 

                “Do you know where she is?”

 

                “No fuckin’ clue. Probably at her own place,” he replied.

 

                “Oh, she doesn’t live here?” Ian asked, genuinely surprised.

 

                “No,” the brother answered, then shut the door even as Ian was going to ask another question. He trudged back home, annoyed, but felt a bit better when he found Mandy on facebook later and started an IM conversation with her.

 

                _are you brothers all jackasses?_ He messaged her.

 

                _yep. get used to it, neighbour_ , she replied, following it with a smiley face.

 

                _you better come over soon then or i’m gonna go crazy_ , Ian said. Then he suggested she come over to hang out on the weekend.

 

                _it’s a date!_ Ian frowned at the heart emoticon following the message. He’d need to have a talk with her about which way he swung, but that could be an in-person conversation.

 

-

 

                The parties started a week later and happened every weekend after. Mandy’s brothers would have over half the fucking city (who all turned out to be their fucking _relatives_ somehow?) over and they would go hard Friday nights. The next day the guests would stumble out en masse and the brothers would make a half-assed attempt to clean up. They’d pile up the empties and throw out bags of solo cups and pizza boxes before the other fucking half of the city would roll in for the Saturday night remix of the night before.

 

                After a month and a half of sleeping with earplugs in on the weekends and waking up to find empties and trash flung all over his yard, he decided to try and talk to his neighbours.

 

                Of course, he didn’t expect the door to be opened by a tiny angry pitbull with blue eyes like something angelic. But traditionally angels were blond right? Like in the paintings and shit? Ian figured he’d found an incredibly rare black-haired angel and he considered himself lucky for the second time in the same instant.

 

                “The fuck you want?” the guy asked, clearly irritated that Ian was just staring at him like an idiot. He took a drag off his smoke and Ian stared at the ground so as not to stare at his lips as he sucked on the filter.

 

                “I-I’m Ian,” Ian stammered out. He held out a hand for the guy to shake it and he just stared at Ian’s hand as if he’s said something offensive about his mother. “I live next door.”

 

                “Yeah, no shit. I see you going for jogs and shit in the morning,” the guy said.

 

                “I live in the basement apartment,” Ian continued.

 

                “Fascinating,” he said, turning in the doorway and beginning to close the door in Ian’s face.

 

                “Waitwaitwait!” Ian yelped, stepping into the doorway and invading the guy’s space. He cocked his eyebrows threateningly and Ian saw his life flash before his eyes. “I – don’t – I just want to talk to you!” he exclaimed.

 

                “Then fuckin’ talk,” he growled, shoving Ian back out the door with a muscular shoulder. It was practically a dream for Ian.

 

                “You – uhm – y-you’ve been leaving your recycling bins out too long,” Ian said.

 

                “What?” the guy asked.

 

                “You’re supposed to bring them in the same day but you and your brothers leave them out for a day – or even _two_ – past the day when they collect it and-“ Ian struggled for something else to say, maybe to save himself from looking like a total jackass, but all he could come up with was; “And that’s just _fucked-up_.”

 

                “Jesus Christ, would you shut the fuck up?” the guy asked. “I’m not a fuckin’ idiot, okay? I know you came here to complain about my brother throwing parties.”

 

                “N-no, I-“

 

                “I’ll talk to them. Doubt they’ll give a fuck, but I’ll try,” he went to close the door and Ian didn’t physically stop him this time.

 

                “What’s your name?” Ian asked.

 

                “Mickey,” the guy replied, clearly impatient. “Now fuck off.”

 

                Even as Mickey closed the door in his face, Ian couldn’t help but grin.

 

-

 

                A week later, Ian had the weekend to write a paper and shockingly, the music and people next door were so loud that even his headphones couldn’t block out the noise.

 

                He didn’t stress it the first two nights since his paper wasn’t due until Monday and he’d have a day and night of bliss Sunday to buckle down and power through it.

 

                Of course, the first time that year that the neighbours partied on a Sunday night was this Sunday. Ian couldn’t focus on the research so he tried at the notes on his paper a little harder, and then when that failed he tried at some reading. As he was reading the same page the seventh time, he heard a knock on the door.

 

                He let the ground floor tenant get it but a second later he was taking off his headphones because his roommate poked her head into the room.

 

                “Someone at the door for you, Ian,” she said, and Ian paused his music and put his book aside. She disappeared and Ian got up, lumbering up the stairs and trying to flatten his hair out from when he’d fucked it up sighing heavily and running his fingers through it.

 

                He pulled the door open and instantly wanted to die. Preferably not in his dirty home sweatpants that he’d been wearing since Friday which also happened to be the day he’d last taken a shower. He smelled bad and he hadn’t shaved and Mickey was hid doorstep looking perfect and holding a case of beer.

 

                “...hi,” Ian said.

 

                “Yo,” Mickey said. “You got some, uh – mustard, on your chin.”

 

                “And your brother is literally pissing on my lawn,” Ian frowned at Mickey’s brother who was just tucking himself back into his pants. He stumbled back into the house and slammed the door shut.

 

                “Yeah, and now he’s not,” he looked up at Ian, then gestured past him with his free hand. “Gonna fuckin’ let me in or what?”

 

                “...what?” Ian asked, wiping at his chin absent mindedly with his finger and sucking the honey mustard off the digit.

 

                He held up the beer. “Peace offering. I asked my brothers not to party so loud and they’re giant dicks-“

 

                “Well now we know that isn’t true for at least one of them,” Ian said gesturing over to where Colin had had his dick out.

 

                “Yeah? You like small dicks, Gallagher?” Mickey asked, eyebrows furrowed though his lip twitched as he tried not to smile.

 

                “It’s not really your business what kind of dicks I like,” _Yet_ , Ian added in his head. “But anyway, it’s nice of you to offer but I’ve got a paper to write tonight. Don’t have time to drink with you, no matter what kind of dick you’ve got.”

 

                Mickey grinned and Ian probably fell a lot in love with that smile. “Can I get a raincheck, then?” he asked.

 

                “On the beer or the dick?” Ian loved the way Mickey’s eyebrows shot up and the way he thumbed at his lip to cover his smile.

 

                “Definitely the beer. Maybe both if you play your cards right,” Mickey replied. Ian agreed, got Mickey’s number and a couple more minutes of cheeky flirtation and big Mickey goodbye. As he watched him strut off and really checked him out from behind the first time, he headed back to his essay. The sooner he got it done, the sooner he could accept Mickey’s peace offering of beer and dick.


	10. Met on a Train Ride AU

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this one is one of my faves. i've got a follow-up planned for it

                Ian paused as he chatted with Lip, rubbing at the side of his face and feeling it come away dusty. He told Lip to hold on a sec and looked around for the source of the projectile, sucking the salt off his fingers as he did. It wasn’t hard to find the culprit – a brunet with a kid asleep against his side clutching a bag of peanuts and issuing figurative steam from his ears.

 

                “You wanna shut the fuck up, asshole?” the guy hissed as soon as he knew he had Ian’s attention. “My fuckin’ kid is sick and he finally passed out.”

 

                “That so?” Ian asked, scowling. “Don’t see how that’s really my problem.”

 

                “It will be when I take your fuckin’ phone and break your teeth with it,” the guy promised. His boy stirred and he ignored Ian for a moment placing an arm around his shoulders. He pressed the backs of his tattooed knuckles against his son’s clammy forehead, frowning. The guy helped guide his son into laying his head in his lap and he was out again with only a couple feeble little coughs.

 

                “For someone who cares so much about his kid, you sure swear a lot around him,” Ian said, turning away from the guy and going back to his call from Lip.

 

                “You’ve never met his mom,” the guy mumbled.

 

                Ian kept talking to Lip until he started seeing peanuts flying into his peripheral. One hit him on the nose and he impatiently told Lip to hold on just a fucking second. He pressed his phone against his chest, muffling the sound.

 

                “It’s a free country, asshole. I can talk wherever I want and anyway this is hardly a place for your tyke to take a nap,” Ian said, intent on going back to his conversation.

 

                “He’s sick and he’s been up puking all night. He’s slept all of five hours the past two days so he’s gonna take it where he can get it, alright?” he argued. “So if you’d stop being a massive fucking twat and let him sleep in peace, that’d be appreciated.”

 

                “Guess I’m a massive fucking twat then,” Ian said, raising his voice and watching the guy panic a bit as his kid let out an unhappy little waking-up whimper. “Never thought I’d be the type since I don’t even like normal ones, much less massive fucking ones but I suppose that might explain a few things.”

 

                “Pretty sure the kid’s more mature than you and he’s five,” the guy said, rolling his eyes. Ian loudly went back to his conversation with Lip after that and despite the guy’s threats, a moment later his boy was sitting up and quietly asking if there was a bathroom because he needed to be sick.

 

                Ian watched out of the corner of his eye as the dad rubbed his kid’s back and told him that there was no bathroom and said he just had to hold on for three more stops. Ian felt well and truly assholey when the boy sighed like he’d been making these kinds of concessions all his life (and if he lived in the neighbourhood three stops away, he had) and said ‘I’ll try, dad’ and the dad said ‘yeah, I didn’t expect any promises, kiddo’ and the kid laughed a little but it turned into a cough and Ian was the biggest prick on the planet. The dad rubbed the kid’s back again and he was looking plenty green and the dad was looking through their stuff and the kid’s Ninja Turtles backpack to find a bag or something for his kid to puke into and Ian had never felt so guilty.

 

                With the pair’s stop approaching, Ian did the only thing he could think of to try and make amends. He found a pen in his school bag and scribbled down his number on the corner of a page in his notebook. He tore it off and went over to the guy and his kid as they gathered up their stuff. The dad had the kid’s backpack slung over his shoulder.

 

                “The fuck do you want?” the guy growled, and Ian noticed how he took a tiny step and edged in between Ian and his kid. “Pretty sure you’ve fuckin’ done enough.”

 

                “Please don’t yell, daddy,” the boy yawned, scrubbing at his eyes with the hand not holding his father’s. “My head hurts.”

 

                “Look, I know I was a royal ass and I don’t know why you made me feel competitive but I didn’t wanna back down,” the PA announced the stop name and so Ian tied it up. “Anyways, I regret being such a prick so I’d like to make it up to you.”

 

                Before the guy could sputter and swear at him, he tucked the slip of paper containing his number into the pocket of the dad’s hoodie.

 

                He barely managed to get out; “Call me sometime. I’ll babysit for free” before the pair had to scramble off the train to avoid missing their stop.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> stay tuned for the sequel to this which will be written at some point during the month of february


	11. librarian/avid reader AU

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> kate is super excited for this one

                “You have to put that back,” the cute redheaded librarian told Mickey. He scowled.

 

                “No. I’m taking it out.”

 

                “You _can’t_ ,” he insisted. His nametag said ‘Ian’ and Mickey thought _a stupid name for a stupid guy_. “You have three books overdue and a movie. You have to bring at least one back before you can take anything else out.”

 

                “What the fuck?” Mickey grumbled, leaning on the check-out counter. “I don’t have three fuckin’ books out and I’ve never borrowed a movie from here before.”

 

                The librarian took a second to consult the computer. “Three Danielle Steele books and one of our DVD copies of _How To Train Your Dragon 2_.”

 

                Mickey sputtered when the librarian just looked up at him. “Fuckin’ romance novels and a kid’s movie? You think _I_ borrowed those?”

 

                “I don’t judge,” he said, turning his face down and hiding his smile. Mickey saw it of course and tried to crush the fluttering feeling in his gut. “Anyways, you can’t take anything new out until you bring those books and the movie back. Library policy.”

 

                “Can’t exactly bring that shit back if I never took them out,” Mickey insisted. He paused as if he’d been hit by an idea and cursed, fumbling to get out his phone and violently type out a text. “My fuckin’ sister borrowed the books and my fuckin’ wife took the movie out for my kid.”

 

                “Your wife?” the librarian asked, raising his eyebrows. Mickey thought he might have seen something like sadness – disappointment, maybe? – in his expression.

 

                “Yeah, she’s always going through my wallet, sniffin’ around for cash,” he scowled. “Fuckin’ evil bitch.”

 

                “Your sister or your wife?”

 

                “Both, apparently,” Mickey growled. He steamed for another moment before he huffed out a very-teenagerly sigh and slammed down the giant brick of a fantasy novel on the desk Ian was sitting at before he turned and stomped to the exit.

 

                No sooner had he grabbed the door handle to wrench it open and storm out he heard the cute redhead call after him. “Wait!”

 

                He turned and glared at the kid. He went on. “Come back here.”

 

                Mickey didn’t really have anywhere else to be and he kind of really liked looking at him so he let go of the door and skulked back over to the desk. He scowled and Nametag-Says-Ian just grinned at him. It pissed him off as much as it turned him on.

 

                “Gonna make a deal with you,” the ginger stud said, lowering his voice even though they were almost done in the library. He got his wallet out of his back pocket and slid his library card out of its slot. Mickey found himself distracted by Ian’s long fingers and shivered at the thought of them caressing him. He needed to dial back the gay and get out of this library ASAP.

 

                “This is a fuckin’ library, not a drug ring, for Christ’s sake,” Mickey mumbled.

 

                “You want the book or not?” Ian asked. “I’ll let you take it out on my card, but you have to return it or renew it before it’s due and you have to bring back the others your wife and sister took out.”

 

                “You got a deal, red,” Mickey said, taking the book Ian scanned out for him and shoving it in his bag.

 

                “Your name’s Mickey, right?” Ian asked. Mickey was thankful for the excuse to hang around and talk to Ian. Mickey nodded, watching Ian carefully. “I’m Ian. Do you watch the show?” he asked, nodding towards his bag and the book he’d just checked out.

 

                “Uh – yeah. It kicks ass,” he admitted sheepishly. “I started watching it with my sister and she lost interest when that Drogo guy died but I kept watching.”

 

                “Oh, so Drogo was your sister’s favourite?” Ian asked, amused. “Who’s yours?”

 

                “The Hound,” Mickey replied. “He’s a badass. And the dragon chick. She doesn’t take shit from anyone, and it’s really fuckin’ cool that she freed all those slaves and shit.”

 

                “Is your wife alright with you watching it?” Ian asked. Mickey cocked his eyebrows. “With all the sex scenes and the naked girls and stuff?”

 

                Mickey snorted. “Nah, man. It’s not the chicks she had to worry about.”

 

                Ian stared at Mickey in surprise and when Mickey bit his lip and fidgeted with his nails, a slow smile grew over Ian’s face.

 

                “Yeah, I’m more of a fan of characters like Loras and Renly,” Ian said, sly and flirty.

 

                “Ditto,” Mickey said, staring at the counter. The pair was quiet and just this side of awkward. Ian ducked under the counter for just a second during which Mickey got on his toes to admire the width of Ian’s shoulders and the slope of his back. He found himself cursing the incredible shoulder-to-waist ratio the ginger sported. Stupid nacho-cheese Dorito.

 

                Mickey didn’t even bother to hide the fact that he’d been checking Ian out when he sat back up. He slid a card across the countertop – a bookmark, upon further inspection  and Mickey picked it up.

 

                “So you don’t lose your place,” Ian said, then added. “Remember: two weeks.”

 

                “Yep. See you then?” Mickey asked as he turned to leave.

 

                “Hopefully before then,” Ian said and Mickey puzzled over that until he cracked open his book on the El on the way home and read until his stop came. Then he took out the bookmark to mark his place and caught sight of the note scribbled on it for the first time. The note said _let’s get in touch with our inner loras and renly sometime_ underneath which Ian had scribbled his name and number.


End file.
